


On My Nerves

by idontfeelsogoodstark



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead 2, Queen (Band), Z Nation (TV), Zombieland (2009)
Genre: Everybody dies in the end, Fluff, Gay, It Gets Better, M/M, Pretty gay shit, Queen - Freeform, These boys are just trying to survive, Timelines get confusing I tried, Undead, Zombie Apocalypse, actually i dont know yet, also insane zombie kills, freddie has powers, i like feedback thank you, if youre reading the tags thank you, it be like that, ive tried, lots of blood, thanks for reading the tags, the queen? no, there was an attempt, theres no bill murray im sorry, we'll have to see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 16:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontfeelsogoodstark/pseuds/idontfeelsogoodstark
Summary: It all started in Sturgis 2 years ago; a family dinner turned into a family killing spree.





	1. Prologue

The air was a sticky hot, as Paul would explain it. It made his skin feel in dire need of a shower and his hair the greasiest it had ever been. His sweat was leaking from his armpits, but that didn’t stop that everlasting feeling of his shirt being suction-cupped to his as equally dry skin. He rose from the bed, surprisingly armed with no other human being. It was common to wake up next to various people when you were Paul. More often than not, they would be dressed in almost nothing and their face would be red from previous nighttime activities. He was never ashamed of it, though, and nearly saw it as a positive in the dark of Boston.

Speaking of Boston, it wasn’t just his office room that was hot. It was the whole city.

“God, is this some kind of fucking drought?” Paul echoed out, voice hoarse from possible previous yelling the night before. He attempted to open the window, in hopes that the dark daylight sky would waft in some air, but there was no avail. His room was just as clammy as it had been before he heaved open the frame filled with glass. 

“What time is it?” he questioned to nobody in particular, shifting and moving bed sheets around violently until his phone was pushed out, tumbling onto the stone floor. Needily, his fingers clasped around it and he hungrily pressed the power button, letting his eyes flicker over the numbers displayed before him.  
To Paul's complete and utter surprise, it was half past noon. That made no sense in his head, though, due to the lack of light coming in from the office window (an office that also served as his bedroom). 

His feet moved towards the opening, poking his head out of the framed hole as he glanced as far as he could. No fog was in sight- well, actually, nothing was in sight. It looked like it was midnight.  
“What the fuck,” Paul mumbled, mostly to himself, as he flickered on the phone once more. No service? What kind of shit was this? His phone couldn’t find any nearby wifi spots, either, so he settled with leaving his office to check the newspaper stand outside. Sliding on some dress pants that were lying around, he slithered and snaked his way out of his office and into the black hallway. 

With his phone flashlight guiding the way, the scruffy male identified narrow hallways and staircases to make his way to the main lobby. Expectedly, elevators were out, and that’s what brought him to the twisting and silent staircases in the first place.

The lobby was empty. There was no chatter of people and the television mounted on the wall was switched off. Paul, who wasn’t putting much thought into it, crept along the carpeted stone floor and to the glass doorway, which was quite difficult to see out of because of an increase of dirt that had been caked on during the years. 

For a sex trafficking company, you’d probably assume that things would be nice. However, it was underground and the only business left in the east area of Boston that hadn’t been shut down yet. To emphasize how dirty the place was, one window had tape over it and the couch in the lobby was probably manifested with bedbugs and lice. Truly, the only tidy things in the building were the offices that belonged to those who worked their magic; one of them being Paul.  
The male in the dress pants opened the door, turning and pulling the newspaper off the requested stand. They kept an IKEA shelf out there, made of metal bars, for all newspapers to be put on. They never invested money into an actual mailbox or even a cheap door with a mailslot. 

The first thing he saw when his fingers graced the stained paper was the headline, printed in bold across the top: GREEN FLU WIPES OUT NORTH AMERICA AND MOST OF THE UNITED STATES.

“The fucking flu? Uh-huh.’  
Paul sighed, taking the newspaper back into the building with him as he guided himself with his iPhone flashlight. His worn-out shoes brought him up the stairs and to his office, where he settled and continued to read the fine text written below the headline and image.

'Ceda confirms a mass flu has broken out in North American labs. The flu causes individuals to have issues communicating and maintaining a healthy mindset. The sickness has spread from North American provinces to the United States, taking over the entire Western side…'

Paul, mildly interested in the content at this point, began lightly skimming over everything instead. He wasn’t completely gone and out of it, he was dipping into being concerned, but he also was not willing to dedicate his full attention into what was displayed before him.

'...Green Flu is said to under research right now and is currently undergoing experimentation on how to prevent it. Scientists and doctors are treating it like any other flu strain.'

He flipped the page without finishing it, continuing on to look over at the picture on the following page. It was a compilation of buildings with notices on the door, armed with a biohazard sign. Paul could loosely notice it from his seventh grade WHIMIS unit, but it wasn’t the most prominent in his mind. Beneath the photo was more text on the issue, but only the large bolded letters on the page caught his cloudy eye.

CLOSE ALL WINDOWS AND DOORS. AVOID ANY CONTACT WITH INFECTED INDIVIDUALS. WAIT FOR OFFICIAL INSTRUCTIONS.  
With a chuckle, Paul shook his head and tossed the newspaper into the bin at the corner of his office, filled to the brim with letters of people who had grown attached to him after one or two night-stands. He lied back on the bed placed in front of the window of the room, sheets lazily thrown over it from when he awoke some time ago. Sleep was poking at him once more, however, and with ease, he fell into the depths of slumber.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Roger encounter a mutated zombie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you didn't notice in the tags- I use a lot of lore from other forms of zombie media. You'll notice some Z Nation stuff, some left 4 dead stuff and so on ((((:

Chapter Two

2 AZ (Present Day)

Georgia 

"Die! Die-You-Fucking-Bitch!"  
Blood splattered into the air like ocean waves giving a home to the sand on the shore and leaving it dark with moisture. Strings were pulled out of tune as the base of a guitar buried itself into the rotting flesh of an infected individual. The male didn't bother to retrieve his guitar- the handle was broken and dangling off due to the amount of times he had slammed the instrument down on the wilting monster in front of him.

"Roger, relax," Brian said from where he was fixing the boards around an old gas station. His curly mane was matted with dirt and blood and he would have killed for a shower at any point in time. 

"'Was my ex-girlfriend." The blonde male said in return as his feet brought him back over to Brian. Calloused fingers met a hot door handle and he pulled the gas station entrance open wide- allowing the stale smell to wash over. Tired feet dragged across the linoleum, leaving very little sound as he investigated the dry shelves. There wasn't much left- mostly loud foods or expired things. Roger's tired, doe-like eyes caught hold of a bag of chips and some canned soup sitting calmly in a box. Roger nearly ran- hunger resting on his tongue as he craved the feeling of a meal filling his stomach like it could before this had all began.

The apocalypse had started roughly two years ago at this point. If it hadn't been for Brian marking the days on a calendar he found, Roger wouldn't be sure. It was hard to keep track of time in between noon and midnight- especially with the change of seasons and global warming or whatever was going on.  
Roger and Brian had stuck together since the beginning. They had decided they would be better in pairs than solo. The two of them had definitely been right- they had gotten themselves into many situations where they would have died without the help of the other.

"Brian! Brian, look!" Roger called as he looked through the assortment of belongings in the box. There was no response or sound of footsteps coming from Brian's direction, though.

"Brian?" Roger called for him a second time, but when there was still no reply he decided the male most likely could not hear him from the outside. Shaky hands parted from the cardboard and he headed towards the station door. He left the building, sighing in annoyance that he had to go retrieve the man.

"Brian, I found a box of-"  
Roger cut himself off. His mouth opened in the shape of an 'o' as he stared at the sight in front of him. Brian was engulfed in... in... a tongue of some sort. Roger didn't pry on the details as he ran before his thoughts could.  
The male took his knife from his designated spot in his belt and sliced part of the tongue wrapped tightly around the curly haired male. Brian fell, but Roger ignored that as he stabbed as far into the creature as he could (something he learned to do at the beginning of his journey, though never to something as... as mutated as this being). His hands shook as he watched the being fall- unsure of what he had just seen happen. 

The creature was tall, to say the least. He was rather lanky as well, though Roger's mind didn't immediately pick up on that. Most of its features were hidden by the large, bulging tumors hanging out of its face and body. Between the saucers the size of dinner plates that hung gloomily from his face, what was left of a long, thick, demon-like tongue hung lifelessly. Roger was horrified, to say the least. This was no ordinary undead- this was... This was something else. Something serious.

The blazing sun shot him back to reality and he became hyperaware of Brian gasping for air on the ground beneath him. He dropped to the cement and began rubbing circles into Brian's back, both instinctively and intentionally. His lanky fingers traced the fabric similarly to how his mother had when he was just a small child.

God, how he missed his mother...

"Are you okay, Brian? God, What was that thing?-"

"A smoker."

That voice belonged to neither of them. Roger and Brian both looked up.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie encounters a weird situation.

Chapter Three

2AZ (present day)

Savannah 

"Darling, if I have to walk for one more minute I'm going to kill myself!" Freddie called out angrily to the male walking behind him. He glanced back, giving an obnoxious pout as if to emphasize that he'd rather do anything than walk for another list of hours. The Savannah sun was burning into his back and he felt he could drop at any point at any second.

The sun was a fiery blaze burning into the backs of those unfortunate enough to have to be caught up in the wave of the apocalypse. At any moment, Freddie felt like he could wake up from this hellish nightmare and return to life as normal- to return to hot showers and plates full of delicious, filling foods for all three meals of his day. Until then, though, Freddie would walk with blood crested over his tanned skin and dirt caked into his hair.

"Stop being dramatic." John was nowhere near as exhausted as Freddie. While Freddie tried to stay focus and remember his simple life back at home, John was set on focussing on the now- the present. He believed if he spent too long yearning for an old life, he would mess up in his present life and begin to hate the situation he was stuck in. John knew you couldn't get anywhere out of anger.

The two had been walking for days on end at that point. Freddie was exhausted. His feet carried tired steps in the direction of a distant gas station (that he wanted to seek refuge in so bad) that left a dripping trail of agony and exhaustion. Each step screamed the evergrowing hunger that clawed at his stomach and tore at him from the inside-out. It left a longing, burning sensation inside him that shouted for food with such passion that it made his head spin and steps waver.

"The CEDA pick-up is so far away.." Freddie whined as he felt his knees become jello-like. His ability to carry on was fleeting- his feet were no longer taking him as far as they used to. Though he tried to push forward, he found the muscles in his body forgetting exactly how to do that. When Freddie failed to be able to keep moving, his feet slowed to stop and his knees gave out beneath him. The world spun before resorting to black.

  


  


Moaning. He could hear it all around. Too frightened to open his eyes, he stayed silent with his hands tucked beneath him. The fear of moving stabbed into Freddie and prevented his muscles from waking up. Just as the noises drew closer and closer, Freddie felt his arms and legs fall back into reality with the rest of him. He shot up, his gaze snapping around as he evaluated his situation.

He was fine.

Unlike how Freddie expected, there were no signs of any creatures forming around him. The previous noise was gone and it was silent. He stepped forward, body slow as if he was caught in a pool melting marshmallows. He thrust forward with all his might, his feet taking him barely anywhere as if he was attempting to run from an unknown being in a bad dream.  
The gas station was quiet- no, the whole world was quiet. He turned and made his way towards the door. It pulled open to reveal empty streets- streets that were crawling with the undead only moments ago and no longer were. 

Freddie took a few more steps- silence. The distant moaning of zombies roaming was gone and the sputter of John searching around was no longer existent. Freddie began to walk once more, his feet taking him further into the street. Further and further and further-

"Freddie!" The scream was loud. As if his eyes hadn't already been open, they widened like a man waking up from a horrifying nightmare. The world around him came back as something more than a far away thought. The groaning, the walking, the dragging, the John- it all returned to him and filled his senses.  
He turned, only to come face-to-face with an undead creature. An empty scream left him and he pushed it back- sending it barreling into the gas station shelf (though he could have sworn he remembered walking outside of this place only moments ago). The Z went tumbling back, at which John stabbed a sharp object into its head. Freddie stepped back, taking in his surroundings- gas station? Did John pull Freddie along the road to it after he passed out? The sun wasn't beating down anymore- where were they?

"Are you alright, Fred? You were just staring at the front door. You didn't even notice the Z behind you."  
"I don't know, dear. We should keep moving."  
"It's dark out."  
"We've traveled in the night before."  
"Fred, I'm kind of tired."  
"Darling-"  
"You're on watch, we're staying here. I'm going to sleep." John finalized. He turned and headed away from the male- residing in one of the back rooms after walking away. Freddie decided not to pester him; it was hard to get John to change his mind once he was set on something. The male was determined- scary determined. It was no surprise that John had lived this long (almost outlived Freddie, too).  
Freddie stood in silence, unsure of what exactly to do. He was still frightened from the... episode (if that's what you could call it)... He just had and wasn't very keen on the idea of being alone after it. He headed over to the countertop and sat on it, watching the wood-covered windows as he thought about what had happened only minutes before.

He had moved through a world without zombies, but he did it without moving in the 'real world'. He didn't understand. Freddie was definitely more than just confused. He couldn't grasp the whole thing at once, either- there were still small details he was still trying to palm at that felt as if they were on just the tip of his tongue.  
Like a man's dream fleeting similarly to sand after rising, Freddie sat as if he were that man and tried to sift for clues. He wanted to know what had happened, why it had happened and everything in between. 

Freddie stared blankly out of the window as the undead moved drowsily along the streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> freddies ability will get explained more in-depth later on ((:

**Author's Note:**

> some updates are short I apologize dear family. It's all about spacing my guys


End file.
